


Forgive me father for I have sinned

by Keepoffthegrass



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, dark!john, ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 11:27:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keepoffthegrass/pseuds/Keepoffthegrass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John lets his desire for Sherlock be led in a dark dangerous way with encouragement from Jim<br/>first ever dark fic, please comment. believe it or not this started life as crack...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgive me father for I have sinned

**Author's Note:**

> kiddies don't read, parents don't sue!  
> characters are the property of the bbc, conan doyle, gatiss and moffat. i own nothing except the idea. this is written for fun not profit

Jim Moriarty had just concluded some business in the privacy of a confessional booth, the priest having been drugged and dumped in a broom closet. Rolling his neck from side to side with a crack and a sigh, he was about to leave when someone slipped into the other side of the booth.  
  
“Forgive me Father for I have sinned. Sort off. I may actually be sinning right now I’m not sure…” the man spoke.  
  
“What?” Jim asked frustrated.  
  
“I’m not a Catholic. I don’t even know if I believe in God anymore to be honest”  
  
Jim smiled wickedly as he recognised John’s voice from his many hours of surveillance on Sherlock and the Dr.  This could be interesting. Well that would probably be too much for ask for, it might prove entertaining  though.  
  
“Then what are you doing here if you don’t mind my asking” Thank The Lord for his Irish accent Jim inwardly snickered  
“Catholic’s are the only ones who do confession. At least that I know of. There’s no one I can talk to about this and I really think I need to! Just to say it out loud will be good.” John sighed and Jim could hear the rustle of clothing as John fidgeted in his seat.  
  
“There are plenty of counsellors out there I hear…”  
  
“God no! My therapist is the last person I would talk to. I know exactly what she would say and I don’t want to hear it because I know it isn’t true. I came here because I know you won’t try and psychoanalyse me or judge…well you will judge because the church isn’t keen on my sin, but I know you won’t judge me to my face…sorry by the way for blaspheming earlier.”  
  
“You’re forgiven” Jim smirked. “The church is meant to do a lot of things, doesn’t mean it does, and believe it or not we don’t all hang on the Pope’s every word. Some of us live in the 21st century” he teased.  
  
“Of course, sorry, it’s a bit intimidating in here to be honest” through the partition Jim could just make out John running his hand through his hair.  
  _Always so polite Doctor. How I would love to find out what would make you come apart. Patience Jim patience_.  
  
“Well let us not delay any longer. What would you like to confess?”  
  
“The usual; I lied to my sister, envy-that’s coveting right? So that’s a big one. I mean it was only some bloke’s car but still, um, I lose my temper sometimes and I know I shouldn’t…”  
  
“Tsk tsk. Those petty things are not the sin you wanted so desperately to unburden yourself of. And do you want to know what I think?” Jim lowered his voice and moved as close as he could to John so that he was facing him rather than sitting sideways.  
  
“What?” John had also moved closer to catch Jim’s confidential whisper.  
  
“God made us, feelings and all, and Jesus died for us. Died for humanity in all its shapes and forms, so what is the point in suppressing emotions? I think Jesus would want us to embrace them. All of them”  
  
“You’re not how I thought a Catholic priest should be”  
  
“Life is too short for should be’s and could be’s . I like to live for the would be’s. Now I hate to rush you but I don’t have all day”  
  
“I want my flatmate” John blurted out in a rush.  
  
“I’m afraid you’ll have to be more detailed then that”  
  
“My flatmate, my very male flatmate. That’s not right, he’s more than that. He’s my friend and colleague as well…”  
  
“Perhaps that’s the problem? You're too close, spend too much time together. It’s making you confuse your feelings for him”  
  
“I think I get what you’re saying but trust me-I may be a bit emotionally confused, but I’m not confused about my sexual desire for him.” John ground out in irritation.  
  
“How do you feel about it?” This was proving to be a good day for Jim.  
  
“How do I feel about wanting to make that brilliant mind stall by reducing its owner to moans and incoherent sentences?  , how do I feel about wanting to force that ridiculously long body to its knees and hear that smug posh voice beg for me?, how do I feel about wanting to pin him down, rip off those fancy clothes, and prove he is every bit as damn human as the rest of us! ?” John laughed in a slightly hysterical way. “I feel ashamed, disgusted at myself. Not because he’s a man but because I’m supposed to be his friend. I shouldn’t feel like this”  
  
Jim sighed as though what he had to say pained him. “I don’t think Hail Mary’s will be much use to you, so I will have to try and advise you as best as I can”  
  
“Please Father tell me what to do. I feel like I’ll go crazy if I don’t do something”  
  
“Go to a club or wherever it is people go, find a man who looks like your friend and do all the things to him that you want to do but can’t to your friend” oh but Jim just wanted to laugh and applaud Johnny boy for finally being interesting.  
  
“No no that won’t work. I wish it could but I know it won’t. It isn’t so much how he looks as the whole package; it’s his hands when he tunes his violin, it’s the shade of his narrowed eyes right before he insults someone, it’s his stupid coat and his stupid purple shirt, it’s the way he moves with the restless grace of a cat who’s had too much catnip, it’s the way my ordinary common name sounds so much better when he says it. It’s his sharks grin and his messy curls and damn it he should let me break his walls down! If anyone deserves to be let in it’s me after everything I do for him…” John was breathing heavily by the time he finished.  
  
“I know I know; you take care of him, you’re the only one that’s there for him but does he ever really thank you? Half the time he forgets you exist .” Jim soothed as he spun his web. “Maybe it’s time you reminded him?  Take what you want just for one day. That way you get it out of your system and after…things can go back to normal. You did say you would go crazy if you didn’t do something, if he’s as smart as you say he’ll know that and he’ll understand” Jim confidently reassured with a smile.  
  
“After things will go back to normal? Better than normal because I won’t want him anymore, not like that” John questioned just to be sure before he did anything.  
  
“Absolutely” Jim agreed while mentally reminding himself to pick up popcorn and beer. He would be staying in with a movie tonight.  
  
                                                  xxx  
  
“Finally. Where have you been all this time?” Sherlock asked John, irritation clear in his voice. “No don’t bother. You smell like incense, the kind used in churches. There is candle wax on the toe of your shoe, you were nervous so used the lighting of a candle to buy you some time. And to blend in.” all trace of irritation had vanished as Sherlock deduced John’s whereabouts, not even noticing John’s eye-roll. “But what besides marriage makes people nervous in church? Confessing I suppose could in theory for someone who hadn’t done it before…Oh. I didn’t know you believed in God much less that kind of God”  Sherlock reached the conclusion of his observation then looked John up and down shrewdly. “What could you possibly have to confess? , has someone died and suddenly your worried about the future of your soul?” Sherlock was half amused and half genuinely baffled.  
  
“It’s really none of your business, I am allowed to have secrets you know. You’re just sore that you haven’t guessed what they are”  
  
Sherlock inwardly flinched at John’s cold tone but he wouldn’t show it. “I don’t guess things I deduce them through careful observation and I was done deducing you a long time ago. You are dull and ordinary John Watson”  Sherlock turned his attention to the contents of the fridge turning his back on John. He would apologise later when John had stopped being an idiot. He straightened up with the intention of going to his room but found himself pinned against the fridge by John’s body, one hand on either side of his head.  
  
“What are you doing John?”  
  
“I would have thought that was obvious”  
  
“Well it isn’t. You are acting entirely out of character, so I’ll ask again-what are you doing?”  
  
“I know you don’t have much experience in these things but you are a genius after all…” John licked a wet warm path along the curve of Sherlock’s ear.  
 Sherlock immediately stiffened, body going rigid within the cocoon of John’s arms.  
  
“I’ll rephrase the question. Why are you doing this?” Sherlock kept his voice low and non-threatening. He had no idea what had happened to make John behave like this but he wasn’t going to think the worse. For all he knew it could be some weird ptsd thing and therefore not technically John’s fault, besides which he was currently nowhere near his phone so it was in his best interest to play along.  
  
“Why? God sometimes you can be dim Sherlock!” John roughly turned him around so they were face to face. “Your right I did confess today. I told a priest everything I wanted to do to you but couldn’t, shouldn’t even want to! He gave me some good advice; he said to just take what I wanted, just for one day and get it out of my system because I have been going mad here doing nothing…” John’s hands left the side of Sherlock’s head and gently alighted on his face, thumbs stroking over cheekbones before peppering his exposed neck with wet vicious kisses that bruised the pale skin.  
  
Sherlock frowned "You’re doing this because a priest told you to? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” he briefly considered making a run for it when John’s hands changed position but he was still too hemmed in, with his back against the fridge, and common sense told him it might be safer to stay passive for the time being.  
  
“Hush. What was I supposed to do? , go pray with my rosary? He gave me advice that will actually work for me, that will help me. Just this one time and then things can go back to normal. Once I know what it would be like with you I would have satisfied my curiosity and then I can go out with that new receptionist, maybe even get married…everything will go back to how it was”  
  
Sherlock saw a flicker of doubt and uncertainty in John’s eyes and chased it. “Oh John do you honestly believe that?”  
  
“Yes because you delete everything that you don’t want to remember” John smiled triumphantly before looking serious again. “Anyway I’m not just doing it for that reason.  So can you guess, I’m sorry ‘deduce’ what I told the priest I wanted to do to you?”  
  
 _Something boring and/or from a bad porn film_. “No John I don’t know what you told him” _But I’m sure you are dying to tell me_  
  
“God I love the way you say my name!” John groaned “I told him that I want to pin you down, rip off your clothes and make you come undone. I want to make you kneel and beg and I want to make your mind stop, just shut it down as you writhe incoherently beneath me” John’s breathing sped up as he described what he wanted, and being as close as he was to Sherlock it was abundantly clear how much it aroused him. _Well to hell with self-preservation!_ Sherlock thought, **that** _was just insulting_.  
  
“My mind never stops!” he spat out “And I very much doubt that you could make it” Sherlock paid for his cheek with a strong backhander that made his head thump against the fridge door.  
  
“You’re always underestimating me! You could do with learning some respect, humility would do you good too” John started systematically stripping Sherlock of his clothing while Sherlock cradled his stinging cheek in his hand in a mild state of shock. It was in these fight or flight situations, he admitted to himself, that he was starting to see the merits of eating on a daily basis.

                                                            Xxx  
Jim clapped loudly grinning from ear to ear as he watched events unfold from the cameras he had had installed in 221b “Didn’t know you had it in you Johnny boy” he said scooping up a handful of popcorn. “I can’t wait to see what happens next”  
                                                      xxx  
  


                Once John had got Sherlock naked he hesitated, would it be better to take this to his own room or Sherlock’s? He had never once stepped foot in Sherlock’s room, he didn’t think that Sherlock hardly had for that matter. His room it was then, Sherlock’s felt like too much of a violation, a boundary he couldn’t cross. Shaking his head a little to try and clear away that uncomfortable train of thought he forced himself to look at Sherlock, to really take everything in. After all it would be his only chance. Starting at pale narrow feet John’s hungry gaze travelled upwards taking in smooth porcelain skin over a frame that wasn’t as skinny as the designer clothes made it appear. Sherlock’s hands hung limply by his sides and when John reached his face he saw that he was looking straight ahead. Which irritated John no end. Typical of Sherlock to think this wasn’t worthy of his full attention. He saw a muscle twitch in Sherlock’s jaw and he almost apologised for the red bloom that decorated one marble-carved cheekbone but he mentally reprimanded himself.  
  
“My room. Now”  
  
Sherlock quickly flicked his eyes to John , shook his head and resumed staring into space. John narrowed his eyes and once more crowded Sherlock’s personal space. “I’m not asking you I’m telling you” . For the first time since this had begun Sherlock felt real fear; as an asexual sociopath this was completely outside his realm of experience. Of course he knew that his physical appearance attracted attention from both sexes but his personality stopped everyone in their tracks soon enough (well there had been that one tutor at university but Mycroft had dealt with him) . But he had let John in, let him get close. Was this the price to pay for friendship? Trust? He remembered being five and crying over his dead love bird. Mycroft had said that caring wasn’t an advantage and Sherlock hadn’t had a pet, or friend since. _Except John_ his quick mind reminded him. _Not helping, none of this makes sense, what kind of priest gives permission for this?_ _There is a clue here I know it…_  
 Sherlock was so wrapped up in his mental analysis of the problem that he hadn’t even noticed John herding him into his bedroom like a wayward sheep until he found himself lying flat on his back on John’s (rather uncomfortable, he distantly noted)bed , John following fast. At least John didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry, content to take his time learning every contour of Sherlock’s body and Sherlock paused in his thinking to wonder just how long John had wanted this, wanted him. It wasn’t a pleasant thought so he turned his focus on gazing around John’s room instead ,looking for a weapon, or more importantly John’s phone. Yes there was himself but judo never taught one what to do when naked and faced with a lust driven doctor who had some basic army training!    
Hot breath danced over his stomach provoking a gasped inhalation. John chuckled lowly and focused his attention there. A kiss elicited squirming and whispered fingertips resulted in a jerk in order to remove his abdomen from John’s reach.  
  
“Wouldn’t have figured you for the ticklish type. It must bother you, not being able to control your body…” John said gently as he continued to lay kisses and soft nibbles to the area.  
  
“You’re cataloguing my reactions. Why?”  
  
“Normal people don’t catalogue Sherlock. I’m committing it to memory. I know I won’t get another chance”  
  Sherlock found his hand straying to pet John’s hair without his conscious thought and he briefly wondered who he was giving reassurance too when he spotted John’s phone on the dresser. John leaned into the touch, kissing Sherlock’s palm with a pleased hum and emboldened Sherlock asked, “Why don’t you kiss my feet? You haven’t tested my reaction to that”  
  
“So you can kick me in the face? I’m not that stupid.” John snorted in amused affectation. He looked up and Sherlock quickly turned his gaze from the mobile only to lock eyes with John. The intensity he saw caused a shiver as goosebumps broke out over his skin.  
 “I would like to kiss you though, it’s a bit hard when you’re standing…” John hesitated as though waiting for Sherlock to give him permission before remembering that he would get none. Starting at sharp hipbones, over each individual rib, skimming a perfectly-shaped collarbone worshipping a satin smooth shoulder and praising a long neck before capturing Sherlock’s full mouth with his own.  
  
Sherlock had kissed one person in his life; when he was twelve, an older boy at one of Mycroft’s tedious birthday parties had caught him unawares. _Been kissed by rather than kissed_. A fragment of Proust drifted through his mind, irking him as he thought he had deleted pointless fiction. The point, he reminded himself, was that lack of experience meant he had no idea what to expect. Being kissed by John in no way compared to being kissed by a fourteen year old experimenting with their sexuality.  John kissed in the same way he did everything else, with good humoured determination and heart and soul and under different circumstances Sherlock may even have found it pleasant, as a natural extension of John. As it was he played along ,kissing John back, distracting him while he reached out his arm groping for the mobile on the nightstand.  
                                           xxx  
“Pay attention Johnny boy . If our boy gets that phone your fun is over!” Moriarty leaned forwards in his seat, childlike glee written all over his face.  
                                               xxx  
  
 Once John felt Sherlock respond to the kiss he continued with renewed vigour, pouring all of the pent up desire, confusion, anger and other emotions he couldn’t, or didn’t want to name, that he had had to hold back, and when he coaxed Sherlock’s tongue to dance with his own; Sherlock in the shy hesitant clumsy manner he remembered too well from his own early forays into kissing, it felt like both salvation and damnation. But then he got his finger caught in one of Sherlock’s curls and must have tugged too hard. One minute he was in heaven, the next he heard something clatter to the floor.  
  
“What was…that was my phone wasn’t it? God how could I have been so stupid?! For a minute there I actually believed you wanted me” John ran a hand through his hair, eyes wild. “I’d rather you didn’t fight me, I really do. You have to believe me this isn’t the way I wanted to do this, but if it’s the only way I can have you then…I mean it’s too late now anyway. I’ve crossed the line, burned my bridges…”  
  
“I love you my boy you are such a delight and I’ll take you by force if you put up a fight” Sherlock recited automatically.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Schubert’s lieder. Goethe’s Erlkonig”  
  
“I’m never enough for you am I? I’m not interesting enough to hold your attention for one minute, even at a time like this you’re thinking about Schubert! Let’s move onto the next thing on my list then; kneel on the bed and beg for me damn it, I’d like to hear you quote Goethe then!”   
  
“You want me to beg when I’ve never begged for anything in my life, not even when I did drugs? Alright then; John please, please I beg you, don’t do this. This isn’t you ,you’re not like this and I know you don’t want to do this, not really. If you had spoken to me, if I had known how you felt we could have, I would have, but please God not like this…” Sherlock looked into John’s eyes as he spoke and he saw the exact moment when he broke, when all the excuses and justifications he had created for his actions collapsed .  
  
“What have I done? Sherlock I’m so so sorry…Christ how could I have done that to you? Call Lestrade right now, or better yet call your brother!”  
  
    Before Sherlock could say anything John’s phone rang. Retrieving it from where it had fallen Sherlock pressed it to his ear with a strange ominous feeling.  
   “Who is this?”  
  
“Put it on speaker phone so Johnny boy can hear” Sherlock did as he was asked and a gentle Irish accent edged with a hint of madness filled the small room.  
  
“Jim Moriarty-Hi! Or as the Doctor might know me, your friendly neighbourhood priest. I Wondered when we met earlier what would make you fall apart and now I know-guilt! Delicious ridiculous guilt. And it’s all your fault Sherlock, you teased your poor pet so much I’m afraid you drove him quite mad”  
  
“You bastard! Sherlock had nothing to do with any of this. It’s all my fault I let you poison my mind”  
  
“Really you are too kind, attributing such powers of persuasion to me! I didn’t put a gun to your head now did I? I just told you what you wanted to hear. Sooner or later you would have done it anyway. I can just picture the scene: the little detective has been driving you nuts all day, like he does, fiddling with his violin, just breathing really, you rush out to some crime scene at night, adrenaline and all that, you end up fucking him in some trash filled alley. At least my way was a little more romantic” Moriarty quipped, voice thick with mirth.  
  
“No! That is not true. I would never…”  
  
“Would never what Johnny boy? Would never rape your best friend? And yet isn’t that how this would have ended, haven’t you already? The best thing is..” Moriarty was stopped by an attack of the giggles. “The best thing is you think this is all about lust, but I have news for you friend. You’re in love with our Sherlock. Shame on you Doctor, hurting someone you love. How does it feel knowing that you shattered the trust he placed in you? And just imagine what will happen when big brother finds out! Someone’s gonna be in trouble” Moriarty sing-songed. “Well it’s been a blast, it really has, but I’m going to have to love you and leave you, get the hint Johnny? Ciao Sherlock Holmes, good luck with your broken toy” There was a click that sounded louder than it had the right to in the now silent room.  
  
“Sherlock give me the phone” John whispered holding out his hand.  
  
“Why what are you going to do with it?”  
  
“Moriarty is right, Mycroft will find out soon enough, he probably already knows, so I’m going to call him and tell him he can do whatever he wants with me”  
  
“John…”  
  
“Don’t John me! I was flipping through the paper the other day, the bloody Sun of course, man attacks his neighbour, and I remember thinking sex offenders should all be locked up. I was so confident in the knowledge that I would never do something like that, that I wasn’t that kind of man…but I was wrong. Turns out I’m just as capable”  
  
Sherlock took a deep breath “I sometimes, alright most of the time, forget what life is like for normal people, how you’re creatures of the senses not of the mind. I misunderstand things, social cues…What I’m trying to say is if I ever did or said something that made things difficult for you, I didn’t mean…I didn’t know..”  
  
“Don’t finish that thought. Sherlock please if you still like me a little bit do not blame yourself! None of this is your fault do you understand me? None of it. Now please give me the phone. I deserve whatever punishment Mycroft deems fit”  
  
“If you do that Moriarty would have won”  
  
“This isn’t a game, the world doesn’t just revolve around the two of you” John sighed.  
  
“Well of course not, it revolves around you as well and that’s why I won’t let Moriarty win. I won’t let him take you away from me. We are going to get through this together the same way we do everything else”  
  
“I can’t Sherlock I just can’t. I can’t even look at you. Knowing what I did, what I might have done, I feel sick. I can’t live with that” A fine tremor started in John’s injured hand and soon spread until his teeth were chattering.  
 Sherlock jumped off of the bed muttering about shock and ridiculous coloured blankets.  
  
“It’s not the same shade but I’m pretty sure that’s not important” He wrapped the burnt orange throw around John’s torso. “You can live with it because you have to and because I’ll make sure you do! Failure isn’t an option for the Holmes you know”  Sherlock thought of the challenge and excitement this Moriarty could hold for the future and smiled.

 

 

  
  



End file.
